“Please believe me. It’s not like that at all.”
“What is it like, then?”
He took a step closer. She stepped back.
“I clearly have a type, but—”
“You don’t say.”
This was not going well. Nate ran a hand through his hair, desperate to think of the right words.
“You remember when you took me down to the river?”
“Of course.”
“And you told me about your grandfather teaching you to paint and your dreams about living in the country?”
She nodded. Did he see a slight softening in her eyes?
“I started falling for you that day. Not because of how you look. I mean, you’re gorgeous, but if anything, your resemblance to my ex was off-putting.”
“Thanks,” Jess said sarcastically, her stance hardening again.
Oops. How would he get this back on track?
“I didn’t mean—what I’m trying to say is, I fell for you because of who you are, not how you look. I saw you helping people and how great you were with all the film crew and…I’m not explaining this well.”
Jess stared at him. Giving up, Nate turned toward the door, intending to head to the car and drive her back to Rangiora. This dinner date was obviously not going to happen now. He’d made such a mess of things.
Jess caught his hand. “Wait,” she said, her eyes soft again. “I’m listening.”
Her skin was silk against his, her fingers long and delicate in his palm. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, took a breath, and tried again, his voice calmer now, more sure of what he wanted to say.
“It’s the way you hum Tina Turner songs when you walk around the supermarket, even though the 80s were well before you were born.”
“And how you’re not at all scared of spiders, but you totally freak out over butterflies, which is so cute and weird. You know that, right?”
Reaching up, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“And that your grandad gave you yellow flowers every birthday and that’s why yellow is your favourite colour, but it’s also why yellow makes you a bit sad, so you never wear it.”
“And you’re the happiest when you’re barefoot and running through the grass, but you pretend to be a city girl, because you want to keep that part for yourself. But for some reason, you letmesee the real you. And that— that’s who I see when I look at you.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Okay?”
Jess stepped closer to him. “I don’t know if it’s smart, but I believe you.”
“I mean it, Jess. You’re the one I want. No-one else.” He hated how desperate his voice sounded, but this woman was the one for him and he’d do anything to prove it to her.
His skin tingled and he held his breath as she traced her fingers from his temple down to his jawline, following them with her eyes.
She tipped her head in thought. “I guess you do look exactly like this handsome TV doctor I knew once.”
He laughed. “Really?”
“He was a jerk, though.”
